


They Never Trained Me For This

by IronRaven



Category: X-Men Evolution
Genre: AU jumping from the the aftermath of the battle with Apocolypse., Conspiracies, Friendship, Laura hates it when people call him her dad, Logan is a good daddy, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Revenge, School, True Love, Violence, Xavier Institute., cute and crazy, normal people suck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 10:04:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8281996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronRaven/pseuds/IronRaven
Summary: X-23 joins the Xavier Institute. For most schools, madness and terror would ensue. For this one, she's a little more odd than most, but she's pretty normal person here. Normal is something she's never been. A person is something she's never been. She was trained to track, to kill, to survive and to adapt. Not to have family, friends, people she can count on.Untrained, she will be thrown into the deep end. The end where they catch you.





	1. I've never had a name before

**Author's Note:**

> This is one part of many works in my EARTH-11052.760907 setting. This is not the comic'verse, nor any of the movie'verses. This is an outgrowth of the X-men Evolution setting, deriving from the events shown at the end of the final episode. Points of reference are that I put the battle with Apocalypse (what I call A-Day or Armeggedon when used colloquially in 'verse) in the late spring/early summer of 2004 to coincide with the conclusion of the series, and this story starting summer of 2005. Technology and events referenced are appropriate for that time frame in most cases. A great deal has been read into the final images that Xavier saw while a Horseman. And the dates are important for other reasons.
> 
> Please note that my Laura is a non-canonical Laura, and in Evo'verse her creator was Dr Risman. While she may have fond memories of Dr Risman, the Doctor's family had no part in her upbringing. On this Earth, she is Laura Logan (no relation to the newswoman) as she has taken her genetic donor's name for a familial. Don't like it, don't complain.

As the cliche goes, it was quiet. Too quiet.

The young woman concealed in the tree had rarely experienced this feeling. She was inside their perimeter, and it was the middle of the day. The weather was good and it was a Saturday. She knew from having been here before that there should be a lot of activity right now. Training if nothing else. All the vehicles seemed to be here. So where were they? They couldn't all be inside, there were too many for her to have seen no one, this didn't fit the normal behavior pattern.

And _someone_ should have seen her.

Should have seen her three days ago. Smelt her. Other than a few glances in her general direction, she'd been largely ignored. She was still trying to figure out if she had been seen, or if they had just had a hunch. After all, they were almost as good as she was. She'd watched them come and go, laughing, training, scowling- she'd never know what it was to be normal, but they seemed half way between her and whatever normal was. But other than a run for the mail and newspapers by one of the students, she'd seen no one all day.

She stiffened. At a slight noise. A footstep. Reflexively, she tightened on herself, tasting the air. She knew the scent, only a few people could get behind her like that. She'd fought this person before, and won.

"Hi there! Wanna come inside?" Kitty Pryde waved.

"Where is he?"

"Mr Logan? He's inside, we've been expecting you to come up for a couple days."

The younger woman leaped from the tree. "Why isn't HE here? Is he afraid of me?"

"No. But the last time you spoke, you told him to stay away, that he couldn't help you and it was better that way. So he's letting you decide. Just like I will." Shadowcat strolled past the lurker. She was doing her best to be nonchalant.

X-23 stared, her emotions a jumble of anger, embarrassment, curiosity and loneliness. _I will not run after her. I won't hurry. Wolverine will come to me. I swear it, I won't... I won't... I..._

She jogged after the older girl.

_-nt_

Wolverine's fingers tightened on the window trim, stopping just short of letting his claws unsheathe. She was out there, watching, just on the other side of the trees. He'd smelt her. He could imagine her on a branch, only her nose and eyes moving as she allowed herself to melt into the tree. "I just wish I'd known earlier, to protect her. I don't even know how to be a father, what if I screw up?"

Xavier looked towards the trees as well. "Rogue and Kitty and the others, they trained you for this. You'll do fine." He pivoted his chair to leave his office.

_-nt_

X-23 froze on the steps, her nose twitching. She could smell them, the X-Men, the New Mutants. They were waiting, it was an ambush. Kitty opened the door, holding it. "You've come this far- we won't hurt you. But you can stop now."

"Why should I believe you?"

Shadowcat shrugged. "How did I know you weren't going to like, chop me up? I trusted you enough to not phase out- I'll even leave the door open if you want."

 _You have my word of honor._ X-23 flinched at the touch of Professor Xavier's mind. She pushed back as best she could. His voice was soft, warm, like a sunbeam through leaves as she sat on a tree branch. She shook her head, hard, trying to brush the sensation away. The ripple of bemusement made it feel like leaves were fluttering between her and the fullness of the sun. _And you've beaten us before. You are in no danger._

The parlor was as much entry way as it was living room, had been for years, so everyone looked relaxed as they sprawled on the furniture or leaned against the railing to the upstairs. The last time X-23 had seen them this close, she'd gone through them like a tornado through a wheat field. The looked, if anything, curious. Some were even smiling, not a predator's grin, but real smiles. She felt a flash of heat, of anger- how dare they smile and relax? Didn't they know what was out there? There were real monsters in the world, and they'd let one into their sanctuary. _Fools, I could-_

The thought stopped cold when she saw Him. She hadn't really noticed before just how short he was- many of the girls here were taller than Him. But she was short, to. Her hands were shaking. She hadn't noticed, when did that start? Her heart was racing, her breath was getting short. He held a hand out to her, palm up, open. He wasn't wearing his gloves. And he was smiling- was he laughing at her? No- his nostrils were twitching quickly, as fast as her's. Her eyes flicked along his throat, she watched as he swallowed, his pulse showing in his muscular neck. _He can't be afraid? Of me?_

She made herself stand fast, she wouldn't back down. Fear kills, she couldn't be killed. She couldn't be afraid. "Logan, why didn't you come outside to talk to me?"

"You've run twice- I was worried you might make a habit of it." His voice was firm but soft. He took a half step forward. "But I hope you might stay."

"But the last time..."

"You were confused, lost." Professor Xavier's voice had the same warm, easy confidence when spoken aloud as it did in telepathy. "We want to help you."

"And what do I have to do? What do you want from me?" The questions came fast, her voice a sharp staccato.

Logan took the extra stepping, resting his hands on her shoulders. "To just be you, the real you, not something from a test tube fed on hate and lies. I want to get to know that real you. I know you are trying do that to; we can do it together, kid."

"I would rather you called me Laura. I... think I like it." Her smile was as much sheepish as anything else. She was still getting used to being able to like things.

Logan nodded. His voice wasn't much more than a whisper. "'Laura'. It sounds right." He pulled her closer, arms around her, resting his cheek on the top of her head. Only the best ears could of heard his voice. "So do you want to stay?"

 _-_ **Author's Notes:  
** Laura, from the laurel plant. In Roman tradition, a crown of laurel leaves was given to honor a person who had perform a great service or made a great accomplishment. The leaves are symbolic of victor and honor. Honor and Victory, in one person. Doesn't sound like she's going to back down, does it? (And most people know them better as bay leaves.)


	2. Never had a friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura didn't like to sleep.

Laura didn't like to sleep. The dreams came in her sleep, the dreams of her old school, where she had lived. Before. When she was X-23.

The lights had never been off; she could turn them off now. But they thought she wanted her own room. She didn't, and they hadn't asked her what she wanted. She'd never thought to ask; she had been taught she couldn't ask for something. She had to be beyond needing things, she could never ask, she couldn't, that is what they said. She could be issued things, or take them if needed while on the mission, but this wasn't the mission, she wasn't X-23, she was Laura.

She lay awake staring up at the ceiling for the first three nights at the Institute. She didn't toss and turn, she just threw the pillow aside and put her hands behind her head, looking up. Sometimes she closed her eyes, but they would open when she started to nod off. She did math and tactical problems in her head, translated French into English into Japanese. She'd grabbed a few naps, but she was conditioned to go without sleep for several days. The fourth night was her limit, as she slipped into dreams.

The dreams.

Memories.

Old missions.

The young girl, she'd been the first. Blond, her age. Cheap knife, slashing the throat, left it there. First kill, no other reason, just picked at random by her handler. They'd told she'd done well.

The three gang bangers. Pistol, at least that first night. Three or four every night for two weeks, guns, knives, a carbomb, mutilating the corpses, trading sides. She'd thrown someone's head in through a window, that had really gotten things going. The two gangs finished each other off in their little war.

The hacker who needed to go away. The first time with her claws. He'd opened up and spilled out before he could scream. He screamed after. They punished her for vomiting afterwards.

A senator who had a heart attack at such a young age. She'd helped it, something extra in his coffee maker while he slept, in and out around his security system and gaurds.

The old man, fat and sweaty and disgusting. They'd made her wear a dress. He'd said she was pretty. She'd skinned him before his hands had touched more than her shoulders.

She could feel his fingers on her shoulder, his breath on her cheek.

_-nt_

Laura's lips were pulled back in a silent snarl, sitting up. Instinctively, she punched upward at the target, her claws emerging as her eyes open, scent and the sound of the heartbeat and the feeling of warmth on her skin driving the strike. Seeing, feeling, hearing, but not comprehending yet, just guidance for the weapon. It should have hit just to the target left of center just above the navel, her claws shredding the heart and lung through the diaphragm- fatal in seconds. The only noise of the attack was the mattress moving, not even her breathing changed.

Kitty squealed, jumping back. She and Rogue had heard their neighbor fighting something in her sleep, mumbling. Kitty had slipped in, frightened to find the young assassin crying in her sleep. The soft, whispered words were... haunting. The toughness was gone, the warrior removed, just a scared, panicked, young person. Kitty had stared for a moment before reaching out to touch the younger girl's shoulder, only realizing at the last moment what a bad move that was. She barely phased out before getting shredded. "Laura. Laura, it's me, Kitty. You're ok, you're safe. They can't hurt you."

Laura was still a minute or two, her hand wrist deep in Kitty's body before the older girl stepped back. Laura just stared at her hands, her claws, like they were someone else's, and at Kitty. At the slashed sheets. The analytical part of her mind knew how Kitty had survived. One one hand, she'd responded properly to a possible attacker according to her training. On the other, anyone else would be very, very dead. She wasn't that person any more. She'd never wanted to be that person. The claws shinked back along her arm bones as the tears started to well in her eyes. She knew she wouldn't be welcome here any more. "I'm.. I'm sorry."

"Sh..." Kitty came closer, not quite touching. "We all have bad dreams, and I'm ok. No chopped up Kitty, see?" _Close, but not quite._

Rogue opened the door slowly, sticking her head in. "Is it safe to enter?" She sat on the foot of the bed, careful not to box Laura in-she could still bail left, and have the width of the bed between her and the door if she bolted for the window. "It's going to be ok, trust me."

"But I could have killed Kitty!" That set off a fresh set of tears. She was going to be sent away. She wouldn't able to be Laura anymore. They got stronger as she felt Kitty's hand squeeze her shoulder.

"Why do ya' think Ah sent her in first?" Rogue's tone was half serious, half playful. "Can't hit what ain't there."

X-23's eyes were wide and frightened and bewildered as she looked at Rogue. It made her look much younger, almost fragile. "But..." She looked like she wanted to look down, but was afraid to. "Why am I alone?"

"You aren't. Like, we're right here."

"But everyone else sleeps with someone else. I've always slept alone." Laura flinched away from Kitty's touch, retreating into a ball. "Everyone else gets to have friends."

When the Institute had been rebuilt, they had made it larger, with more bedrooms. For a while, Kitty and Rogue had their own rooms after that first year of being roommates, but as the number of students increased, they'd shared a room again. Even now as faculty, they decided that it was better for everything if they didn't get their own rooms- that had made room for several new students. Most people complained about it at first, but there just wasn't much room.

"Wolverine asked if we could find yah a single. He thought yah might want yer space." Even as Rogue spoke, she remembered the few images from the one time they'd touched. The younger girl had been taught to always be on guard, to be ready to defend herself. Had she ever slept well a night in her life? "Must get tiring watching yer back all the time."

Laura nodded silently, biting her lip. She looked scared and miserable. "I'm not allowed to relax. If I did, they'd hit me or shock me."

Kitty's eyebrow twitched angrily. No one should have had to grow up like this, what was HYDRA trying to do? Of course their living weapon would turn on them, people weren't supposed to be like this. She'd lived with Rogue long enough to know where her friend's mind was going. "Maybe you can crash with us tonight?"

"You'd let me do that?"

"Sure. Why not?" Kitty smiled, the one that made you feel warm and cozy and was a little big sisterly.

"You forgive me?" Laura flinched back, not believing it, expecting a trap. "Even after this?"

"Why wouldn't we?" Rogue shoved her hair back. "Ah didn't exactly make the best first impression- Ah zapped Kurt and Storm both. Almost fried 'em all." Blushing, she gave an odd half smile. She reached for Laura, holding her knee through the sheets, knowing that Kitty was ready to grab her if needed. But Rogue didn't think it was needed. "That was before they became mah friends. Mah family. Do yah trust us?"

_-nt_

In the hallway, Logan debated if he should go in. The past three nights, Laura had joined him on his 0300-ish patrol, coming out of her room as we walked past. He'd been barefoot, stalking through the halls and then out to the grounds for years. She'd even seen things he'd known about and forgotten, security issues that needed new eyes.

He'd seen Rogue slip into Laura's room as he came through the shadows. He could smell the tears. His ears heard.

He had assumed she had been waking up. She hadn't said anything other than saying she recognized his smell.

She didn't sleep? She was afraid to sleep? A sick knot twisted in his guts at the thought. He knew most of HYRDA was dead- what Laura hadn't taken care of, he had, or Fury had. He felt his face twisting into a war mask. If he wasn't careful, the hate he was feeling would wake the Professor, and then there would be all kinds of questions he really didn't want to answer.

But he also wanted to talk to the Prof about this. Charles didn't have any more experience at being a father than he did, but he was the shrink. Logan tensed- should he go in and be comforting? He hadn't always been very good at that, but he's seen the normal ration of sprains and breaks and falls and bad dreams that you get with teenagers in a full contact lifestyle. He thought he could handle the idea of Laura crying, of her being scared. But he was scared he'd make a mistake, he wasn't ready for this, this was too much, too scary. And he didn't want Laura to see him angry, she would think he was mad at her for being afraid and scared. No, no, he couldn't let her think that.

Tears of fury ran down his cheeks.

_-nt_

"Hey, take my hand." Kitty reached out her hands, both to Rogue and to Laura. Rogue grinned at the much shorter girl. "This is so weird, but you'll get used to it."

"Try it," grinned Kitty, nodding to the wall.

This was kind of neat, watching, feeling her free hand slip through the wall. Her lips quirked up a little, as she looked at the others. She yawned, deeply, her head tipping back. It almost felt like her head was splitting in two. When it passed, she shook her head, then stared at Kitty and Rogue yawning. Was it some oddity in her powers that she didn't know about? "I'm sorry, I didn't know I could do that."

Rogue laughed. "Don't worry about it, suga'. Its normal for yawns to be contagious. Now, let's get you tucked in before you fall over." _Before I fall over._ Rogue knew she was tired- she was focusing on her words as she spoke. She she tightened her grip on Kitty's hand, and stepped through. It would always be weird to her. She gave a tug, pulling Kitty and then Laura through. "All right, you. Your butt, my bed, and sleep."

"Rogue?" Laura was confused.

"Don't worry, Ah'll sleep in the big chair. Done it before." She jerked her chin towards the large, round Papa-san chair by the doors to the balcony. "You sleep in the bed, ok? Lay back, close your eyes."

"Promise me, promise me you won't tell anyone. Please." Laura's fists balled, her wrists bent so her claws couldn't slip out. "I don't want Logan to know, I don't want him to think I'm weak."

"Oh, trust me, he has nightmares to. Not very often, but everyone hears it." Rogue pulled the blankets over the newest member of the Xavier family. "The Professor helped him with them- you should talk with him, it's ok. We do it as a team here. If you can't run, you walk; if you can't walk, we carry you so you don't have to crawl. Now go to sleep."

Laura obeyed. She'd never been tucked in before. The chair that Rogue had pointed to meant anyone coming from outside had to trip over her, and Kitty's bed was closest to the door. Kitty even set her desk chair in front of the door. No one would get it without the three of them knowing about it. It wasn't optimal, but it was a good tactical situation. Laura closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then another. She was out before the third one.

Rogue looked at the door, raising her fist slightly, tightening it , tilting her head to one side in a question. Kitty nodded, and slipped through the door. They both had heard the soft sound. She looked around, seeing the turns in the shadows where there should have been straight lines. She crouched down. "Logan? It's alright, she'll stay with us tonight."

He'd heard their conversation. He'd been run through enough times, he was an expert on how that felt. That Laura was afraid he'd think she was weak felt a lot like that. But this time, he was helpless. All he could do right now is act like he hadn't seen or heard anything. If he did anything, he'd make it worse. _They are still hurting her. Damn them!_

Kitty had been hugged liked this before. Kurt had cried on her shoulder, and Rogue. She'd even hugged Mr. Logan like this, when she and Lance fought or she failed a test. But she never thought she'd be the one getting hugged _by_ him. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to.

_-nt_

The next morning, Rogue was awake early. She was standing in the hallway, waiting outside of Jean's door when the redhead finally opened it. "Jean, Ah got a favor to ask you, then maybe we can try an' sweet talk the Prof."

Jean's room was one of the largest, having been designed as an instructor's or guest room from the beginning. Same size as Scott's, not to mention Storm, Logan and Hank's. Jean and Scott had suggested once that they might move in together, but the Professor had been unhappy with that idea. He didn't think it would look appropriate- they had a hard enough time keeping the students from sneaking into eachothers rooms at night, the instructors shouldn't co-habitate. But it wasn't like everyone didn't know what these two were doing.

There was more than enough room for her and Kitty in one of the larger rooms. The triples were the same size. It would help Laura get better, and Logan would be joining her and Kitty on the lovebird's request this time.

It would even free up space for at four more new students. With ten applications last week, it would be hard for him to say no.

**-Author's notes:  
** Young cubs and pups often need to hear another heartbeat or breathing so they can sleep, knowing that nothing will eat them.

The worst feeling in the world is not being able to make it all better for your kids. It keeps you awake at night, wondering what you did wrong, wishing you could take the pain for them. It really would be easier if the monsters could just be slain and left in a shallow, unmarked grave.


	3. Never had to have

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acting normal takes some props.

"Vhell, if the whole world saving thing doesn't work out, vhe could set up a moving company." Kurt smirked as he placed his hands on the oak chest that Jean had brought from home with her. With the muffled bang-hiss that marked his departure, he and the chest ported to the other side of the Institute. He was extra careful- Jean had told him in no uncertain terms what would happen if he broke the china in her hope chest.  
  
With that out of the way, Hank took one remaining of the boxes. "This brings back memories. When I was in high school, I spent summers working for my uncle's moving company. Good, clean, honest hard work is just the thing to relax the mind."  
  
"If yah say so." Rogue hoisted another. "How can anyone collect this much... stuff? And have it in one room?" It boggled Rogue's mind. Even with Kitty, she didn't see how they'd fill this closet with clothes. She had a feeling that when Laura and Logan got back, it would prove what she suspected- that Wolverine's gene-daughter would be as minimal he was.  
  
-nt  
  
Most people find moving an act of discovery. Finding that lost piece of jewlery or uncovering a sandwich that had last been seen during the Nixon years. Sometimes it is more the realization that, no, you actually don't have a second small sauce pan and that you should get another one. There is always stuff you give or throw away, not having used it in years and no longer need or it no longer fits.  
  
Sometimes you even discover you'd need more to have nothing at all.  
  
Laura had cached a small pack with a change of clothes and most of a second just outside the fence of the Institute. She'd recovered it that first night. That and the leathers she'd been wearing had been the sum total of her worldly goods. She didn't say how she had acquired any of it; no one had asked. That first night, some of the shorter and slimmer girls had donated some of their spare clothing, but again, it wasn't much. Laura hadn't wanted to wear someone elses clothes- it took a lot of washing to completely remove someone's scent- but she'd do it.  
  
She tried to not tell herself it was because she had a new mission and this was a requirement.  
  
As the others moved Jean's stuff into the room that the Professor Xavier reluctantly allowed her to share with Scott, Logan had decided that Laura needed to go clothes shopping. Ororo had offered to go with her, as had Rogue, both on the theory that he might not be comfortable. He'd thanked them, but no. "She's my daughter, I should do some fatherly things."  
  
After breakfast, he'd shown he cared with his usual charm. "Laura, grab your ruck and jacket, and meet me in the garage in five." Ororo had rolled her eyes slightly, shaking her head, but said nothing. Laura knew only that something was happening- she'd been given her directions, an operational warning.  
  
She hadn't been thrilled he handed her a spare motorcycle helmet. "I don't need it, it will get in the way."  
  
"No, you don't need it, but busting your skull hurts. And I'm not watching you bust yours if some fool in a minivan thinks we are a speed bump. But the cops will pull us over if you aren't wearing it." That had been the total of that argument. Laura scowled, and slapped the visor down.  
  
Scowling back, Logan pulled his own helmet on. It muffled his voice. "Is it too tight?" A rebel part of his mind chortled with shock and glee. _Is the Wolverine getting soft, turning into a protective father?_ Years of trying to set a good example prevented Logan from saying what he really wanted to say to himself.  
  
-nt  
  
Sabertooth inhaled deeply, and frowned. It had been a week since he'd traced Logan's scent back to this "Bayville" of his. The runt had been hiding behind the walls of his Institute- the odds weren't good, and besides, Sabertooth wanted to savor this kill. Years of humiliation called for hours of suffering.  
  
Maybe even days.  
  
 _There we go._ From his hiding place, Sabertooth smiled, licking his lips. Logan was leaving, along with one of the kiddies. He'd never taken one of them on a motorcycle like that before to Creed's knowledge. The long hair- a girl? Alone? On his bike? She wasn't just hanging on , she was embracing him. _Oh, please Logan, even I think that's wrong._ Sabertooth shrugged. If the noble and heroic Wolverine was playing house with one of the brats, it wasn't his issue. Just another way to hurt him.  
  
He shoved the last of the pie into his mouth. This year he'd gone with strawberry rubarb- his favorite.  
  
At least the local authorities had finally stopped fixing the fence around the water tower. Their persistence had started to annoy the blond killer. Logan didn't know or didn't care about this watching place. Creed hoped down to the concrete pad, rolling when he landed next to the motorcycle he'd stolen last night.  
  
It was going to be a good start for another year of Victor Creed.  
  
-nt  
  
If one spends as much time at the Xavier Institute as Logan had, you really had no choice. You knew the bands, the sports, the movie star gossip- you existed in a sea of teenagers. You would also know which stores in the mall sold what- the girls made sure he'd known which had the best clothing. He had never gotten the subtle tones of what women wore. Most ladies look good, some better than others, but the big deal about clothes was over his head.  
  
But he had shown them all to Laura. She sniffed, scoffed and snorted at all but the most basic. What she had had accepted was mostly from a store that Rogue had mentioned. It catered to the "alternate" crowd, and even then, Laura had condemned most of it. The chains and spikes, pointless; most of the leather was too thin. She'd let herself smile when she was looking at the camouflage utility pants, leaving the urban patterns with red or white or blue, instead taking basic, solid dark grey.  
  
"You know, you should try those on."  
  
Laura shrugged. "They aren't too small, and I wear a belt- if they are too long, I'll cut them down."  
  
Logan's eyes rolled ceilingward. He'd said the same things a few times before, when he'd been a wanderer. Before he met Xavier. "Humor me, will ya?"  
  
"Oh, very well." Laura sighed, reaching for her belt buckle. She sighed and scowled when he grabbed her shoulders, a slightly horrified look on his face. "What now?"  
  
He pointed to the archway in the corner. "Changing rooms- I'll hold your pack."  
  
They fit well, she'd taken several pairs. Black tshirts and sweats from the discount store. Good socks from the outdoors place- she'd taken the most time with those, and put a lot in the basket. She'd tried on a lot of boots, but none of them were quite right and none of them were the self healing biomimetic that would repair itself. They'd headed back to where they'd left the motorcycle, on the top deck of the parking garage. Most people didn't want to be that far away from the mall if they could help it, so it was less likely to get the paint scratched.  
  
Without thinking about it, they both faced the door of the elevator as they went up, watching it. Logan had his helmet in his left hand, while Laura moved the bag from the outdoors store to hers. Just a few fractions of an inch from either of them, and their claws would be out. Logan glanced down at her hand as she looked up at him. There was nothing to say, but he gave a slight wink.  
  
The door slid open, and the both waited a heartbeat before they stepped out.  
  
"We're being watched." Wolverine held her backpack as she stuffed in the last of her purchases after pulling her helmet out again.  
  
"I know."  
  
-nt  
  
Sabertooth glared over the vehicles. These stupid humans stank, it would have taken too long to find them here in this mall. But he had found Logan's ride- he'd be back before too long. He'd smelled his prey as it left the elevator to this level of the garage. Creed smirked when saw the two of them standing there, talking, close.  
  
Wolverine not watching his back and with his hands full, that was too good to be true, but the girl with him, she was tiny. The runt had a couple inches on her. She was nothing- but he'd be busy protecting the brat.  
  
Powerful hands closed on the cargo rail that ran on the top of the SUV he'd hidden behind, pulling as he jumped to the top of the vehicle, then jumping again. He knew that they'd hear it, that she'd see it. She'd gasp, Logan would try to push her away, giving Creed two or three, maybe even four seconds to disable his rival. At least that is what he'd expected when he started his pounce.  
  
Logan ducked and turned, side stepping while crouched, as soon as the springs of the SUV rocked. Laura flung the backpack underhanded. Instinctively, Sabertooth backhanded it away, swatting it down. That put his arm out of position to block or attack, while Logan took advantage. A hammer fist drove down on the top of Creed's hip bone, while the girl twisted on one leg, the other cock back and coming up. Creed's head snapped back from the spinning kick that had been aimed at his jaw. The runt's girl was good, fast to, and she had-  
  
 _SHE HAS CLAWS!_ Stumbling over his feet, he landed flat on his back. Sabertooth recovered from the shock quickly. "What!? You've got a kid now?"  
  
"Yeah." Without bothering to discuss their tactics, Logan and Laura spread apart, all claws out. Creed knew he couldn't attack them both, but they could both get him as soon as he was on his feet. Between bar room floors and Logan, Sabertooth had learned a lot of ground techniques- using any of them would leave him wide open to the other. Logan's teeth were bare, but with the anger there was something else in his eyes that Creed didn't recognize. "And I'm trying to protect her from perverts, profanity and senseless violence. Got a problem with that, bub?"  
  
Laura growled, a smaller, higher pitched version of Logan's own snarl, feral. She could smell this one's blood, part of her wanted it. He'd attacked her, but more importantly he'd attacked Logan. She knew Sabertooth's history, she'd read the dossier that was at the Institute along with the one Hydra had kept- she knew he'd attacked the Institute, he'd endangered the others. He was a threat. She watched his movements, he was looking at her, teeth bared. Her lips pulled back further, her face twisting in a visage suitable for a samurai's war mask. It was going to be one of those fights were you wait for someone to make the first move.  
  
Creed's feet and knees lifted up, either to kip up to his feet or roll back. Laura was going to let him get a little further into it so she could kick him back down, when Logan shot forward, his boot heel driving down painfully into a sensitive location, bending and cracking the stainless steel cup Sabertooth wore as it slammed hips back down to the asphault. There was a squeal like a kitten licking a power outlet, and Creed passed out, his nervous system overloaded from the pain.  
  
Laura's nose flared. Now to end this. Her claw through Sabertooth's brain would either kill him or leave him a vegetable. Either way, no more threat.  
  
"No, hold it!" Working with smooth speed, Logan removed the blond man's belt before flipping him over and grabbing his wrists. The wide leather wrapped around the thick wrist, holding the hands back-to-back near Creed's tailbone. "We aren't going to kill him." Logan pulled the phone from his belt, pressing one of the few numbers on speed dial. "Hank? It's Logan- I need you and the Professor to come to the mall with some restraints for Sabertooth and the van... No, no bystanders. Roof of the west side parking garage. Have Scott warm up the Blackbird, we need to dump this furball someplace... Oh, and Hank? Bring some ice." Closing his phone, he tore the laces from Sabertooth's boots, using them to pull the feral mutant into a hog tie. "We're just going to dump him some place remote, where he'll be out of everyone's way for a while."  
  
"But why? He attacked us, and you're just going to let him go? He'll be back."  
  
"No, I'm not just going to let him go- I'm getting him out of the way. He's been useful a few times, I owe him that much." He studied his handiwork for a minute- they'd work long enough. When he spoke again, his tone was almost regretful. "He was part of the Weapon X program. He remembers things about me that I don't."  
  
Sabertooth groaned, starting to lift his head, when a boot heel dropped on the back of skull. His jaw hit the pavement, teeth clacking together loudly as he passed out again. The second kick was just for spite. "Fine. So he's part of my family or something?" Laura snorted.  
  
"Distant relative at best. Just part of our puzzle, kiddo- 'sides, no killing unless we can't avoid it. You're one of the X-men now, minimal force needed, no more." His lips pulled up in a sardonic half smile. "And I have to remind myself about that all the time." He stroked his fingers through Laura's hair, slowly, lightly, feeling her tremble with adrenaline and tension. "Now we just wait for his transport."  
  
Laura crossed her arms, her lips tight. She tried to stay rigid, refusing to push her head back against Logan's hand. She wasn't used to being praise for not killing. Rarely enough for killing. Before, she'd just been a tool they took out of the drawer when needed- they'd reward her with no discipline for an accomplished mission. She had to think about this. She was silent for several minutes. "Logan?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"His healing powers are like ours." Not a question, just a fact, as was her habit.  
  
"Yep."  
  
"We'll have to knock him out every few minutes until the others get here, right?"  
  
"Probably."  
  
"Good" Thock-clack! as she kicked him in the head again. That did feel good. "His fingers twitched."  
  
-nt  
  
The Blackbird flared, going into VTOL mode over a remote island just above the arctic circle. It was two hundred watery miles from anywhere this time of year, and it would be months before the pack ice returned. There were birds and fish, he'd live if he was patient. Of course, knowing Sabertooth he'd just swim south once he woke up and realized he wasn't going anywhere for a while if he didn't. And hating every second of it.  
  
In the cockpit, Scott muttered. "Logan, are you sure this is low enough?"  
  
"Don't worry, he'll bounce."  
  
"Laura's right, Slim; just hold it steady."  
  
Removing the adamantium cuffs from the feral's arms and legs, Logan set them aside and opened the hatch. He grabbed Creed's wrists, while Laura took the ankles. When she nodded, they both lifted, and on the third swing, tossed their opponent out the door, to land on the fine stone beach below, the waves lapping just below his feet.  
  
The tide was coming in.


	4. Never trained to heal.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternative title, "The smallest of anchors"

"Hello, Ms Monroe."

"Hello Laura." With a twitch of her fingers, Storm scattered the palm-sized rain clouds watering. "I was wondering when you'd explore up here."

The young woman looked around, curiously. She knew about plants, sort of. She breathed in, the mix of scents almost heady. She knew they needed sun and soil and water to grow, and converted carbon dioxide to oxygen. "Is it ok if I watch for a while?"

"Always- there is a stool under than counter, if you'd like to sit." Storm's fingers circled the next of the lilies, creating a plump little cloud that was more grey than black, holding a slow drizzle.

"Ms Monroe? Why do you take care of the plants? They do ok on their own, don't they?" Laura hadn't taken the stool, but was leaning forward, bending over the edge of the work table to study the tiny rain cloud. She' been rained on, many times, the rain was an operative's friend, but this was different. She felt like she could grab this cloud and put it in a jar. Or her pocket- she didn't mind being wet.

"Some aren't as strong as others. This little lily comes from a tropical climate, and only blooms after the rainy season. It needs some rain, but a monsoon would drown what the winds didn't shred." She ran a nail delicately over the stem. "Too little water and it would die; too cold or too much sun would do the same thing. Or one careless foot."

Laura studied the fragile blossom. She inhaled, it's scent strong, mixing with the soil it was growing in and the damp smell of rain. A part of her wanted to be that careless foot, accidentally squashing it for being weak. But she knew she shouldn't. And most of her didn't want to. It liked the sun and shade and rain, the same way she did. "Will it get bigger?"

"No, my dear, this is just a little one. It only flowers for a few days, then it it gone for another year." With a flick of her wrist, Ororo caught the little cloud and sent it sliding towards the next plant. A hybrid rose with dark purple, almost black outer petals with a secondary bloom of sun yellow at the center.

_-nt_

A green house. Long, low benches with racks of roses in a riot of colors. An old woman, long retired, but with a mind still full of secrets.

X-23 didn't know the woman's name. X-23 didn't know the secrets, who might hear them. X-23 had her orders. She left her hiding place at a sprint. The light wood and glass of the door shattered as her shoulder hit it. She tucked in mid air, rolling to her feet when she found the floor. A fast sweep of an arm, and the woman's head lay next to her wheelchair. The woman's arm fell from the flower she'd been tending, the watering can landing with a clatter and splash. The rose bobbled for a moment, it's yellow core blazing like young star in the blackness of space.

X-23 pulled the highway flare from her belt, striking it into life. She tossed it over her shoulder, to land among the flowers. Her foot lashed out, cutting the gas line that fed the heater to protect the roses in winter. X-23 walked out of the greenhouse, barely stumbling when the gas met the flames, exploding into a blossom of destruction.

X-23 calmly plucked a shard of glass from her shoulder, tossing it to the ground, as she walked to where her handlers were waiting.

They had told her she was ten years old today.

X-23 had killed well, she wouldn't be punished.

_-nt_

Laura's eyes were twisted shut tightly, her breathing ragged.

Ororo watched her carefully. She knew that look. She'd seen it on Logan's face often enough, flashbacks, bad ones.

Slowly, Laura's eyes opened. She slowly drew in a breath, blowing it out. She looked down- her claws were crossed, adamantium on all four sides of the untouched flower. She moved her arms, the claws pulling back, the wounds they left healing before they could bleed. "I'm sorry Ms Monroe."

"It's ok, Laura. Many of us have ghosts in our past."

Laura was silent, watching the flowers. She could smell every single one of them. "Can you tell me about roses? Are they strong?"

"Some are. Some are as delicate as spun glass."

_-nt_

The next day, Laura started helping Storm with the grounds. There was a place where it was planned to plant some hardy bush roses. The would bloom ivory-white, and leave large, glossy red rose hips for the birds and for tea. The plants had already been started in pots, needing only to transplanted.

Laura listened, rarely needing to ask questions, attention rapt. She decided against the trowel, using her claws to loosen the soil, her fingers to peel back the sod and lift out the soil in cupped palms. She lay the earthworm under the small cloth she was putting the dirt on, nudging them until they disappeared into the grass.

With the 20 bushes planted, and the motion sensor they would conceal placed, Laura still watched them. She checked them daily, usually more than that.

On the tenth day, little black spots started to appear, with yellow rings around them the next. Laura fed them, fertilized them. She talked to them. A few days later, the first leaf fell.

She brought it to Ororo at breakfast, holding it in both hands like a soap bubble. Storm looked at it for a moment, and asked one question before taking the visibly shaken Laura into the garden. Logan had started to join them, but the black woman shook her head as his chair started to scrape.

Storm knelt down by the roses, studying them. "There is still hope." She reached out, plucking one leaf, then another.

"NO!" Laura pushed the older woman back, fists balled but claws sheathed. "You can't kill them! !t isn't their fault, they aren't broken. They don't deserve to die."

Storm was shocked that Laura had pushed her like that. The anger seething in the small frame was potentially titanic, but it wasn't a sword to be swung. She was lifting it as a shield, to protect others. The plants. Ororo bit back on the indignation. "Laura, the plants are sick. I'm not going to kill them, I need to prune off the infected leaves. Then just sulfur and vinegar water to keep the fungus at bay."

"You won't kill them? You won't punish them?"

"I'm not going to punish them." Storm rose to her knees. "I promise, I can make them well again, but you have to let me help them." _What kinds of monsters could do this to a child._ For the first time, Storm could understand the kind of anger she'd seen in Logan for so many years.

"Please Ms Monroe, don't help them." Laura looked up with eyes trying to plead for another, eyes that had rarely done so. "If they die, it will be because I failed. I can't fail."

"But-"

"Please." Laura fought the tears. "All I've ever done is kill things. Tell me how to keep them alive, but I need to do it. I have to heal them. I need to not kill something." She was losing this battle. "I'm more than a killer! I have to be!" The tears ran from her chin like one of Storm's thimble-sized cloud bursts. "Please! I'm the only one who can do it."

**-Author's notes:**  
Yeah, Laura's a little messed up in case you haven't been able to tell. But like Rogue told her, she's part of a team. When you can't walk, they'll carry you so you don't have to crawl. With PTSD cases, some at least, they can be fine for months, and then, pop, something lets out the nightmares.

I'm not aware of a hybrid that matches the roses that triggered Laura's flashback, but I see it as being akin to the Bella Roma in general appearance, but with the coloration of a Black Baccara at the outsides with the yellow closer to a Henry Fonda's yellow. And yes, it is purposeful- black rose can be death or it can be rebirth, while a yellow rose welcomes and shows friendship. It was subtle so it gets explanation, but everything in this has writing. The only thing NOT symbolic is... my artistic use of the enter key. 

And for people who don't garden, black spot is a common fungal infection of roses. Prune and burn the infected leaves, change the watering pattern, and lightly spray with a fungicide or a sulfur and/or cider vinegar solution. They should be better in a few days.


	5. Never use the door if there is a window.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes we welcome the thief in the night

There had been the slightest click as the window was jimmied. Laura had heard whoever it was as he scaled the walls outside, it had been enough to wake her. The silhouette was certainly that of a slim man, but not one she could recognize.

He silently slipped over the window sill. She waited until he was most of the way through, one leg half in, the other still outside the window, then she moved. She twisted in bed, legs scissoring around him, her high pitched snarl loud in the room and waking everyone in hearing distance. She tossed him forward, letting him tumble towards Kitty's bed- it was a calculated risk, but if you poked Kitty in her sleep she was as likely to just sink through the bed and wind up downstairs as to wake up these days.

He was good, she'd say that. He rolled over by the time she was on top of him. She batted the metal rod from his hand, her foot claws digging into the wood as she knelt on his thighs, pinning him down and threatening him in a way that was highly effective on men. She drew her fist back, claws out. "Who are you!"

"Heh! Whoah mi petite, careful. Remy mean ya no harm, Remy just want to say 'ello to his Queen." Red iris shown in blackened eyes, while he tried his best to smile like it was all a joke. "Remy should have knocked, no?"

"Laura! Remy Lebue, what are you doing here?" Rogue didn't even pause for her gloves. Maybe that was a tactical decision; maybe it was just waking up in a hurry. Laura didn't move, she didn't even seem to be breathing hard. Rogue processed what he'd said. "Yeah, maybe you should have knocked, and maybe waited until morning, you stupid Swamp Rat."

"Gambit, you idiot!" Kitty fumbled on her lamp, squinting without either her contacts or her glasses. "Are you trying to get killed?"

"It wasn' dah plan, no."

_-nt_

Others were reacting, starting to head towards the room the three shared. There had been joking whispers that if anything every went wrong in there, Logan would spontaneously discover latent teleportation ability to get there, given how he felt about the three young ladies who shared it. That was almost the case, as Kurt bamfed into the hallway, his hand on Logan's shoulder. The Wolverine wasn't much of a morning person. He really wasn't a 2am-wake-up-to-screaming person.

The other girls who lived in the wing were pouring out, in states of mind ranging from sleepily curious to ready to toss in a handful of flashbang-like orbs under the door and kicking someone's ass for waking them up. It wasn't much longer before the guys were breaking one of the first rules of the Xavier Institute, barging into the girls' wing after 10pm. The air almost rippled with elemental and psychic energies.

Breaking into this home in the middle of the night had been done. But it wasn't covered by most medical plans- that kind of stupid was a preexisting condition.

 _Everyone, go to bed._ Charles Xavier's voice was firm. _It is under control. I'll be there in a moment._

_-nt_

"Laura, let him up. It's ok." With her gloves on, Rogue rested her fingertips on the younger girl's shoulders. "He's a friend. An idiot, but a friend."

"You sure? He smells like-"

"Hey! Ah do not smell, petite!"

Kitty winced. Laura hated nicknames, she wouldn't even take one from Logan. OK, so maybe 'Mini-me' wasn't the best one he'd ever come up with for someone, and 'Munchkin' wasn't any better. Even Boom-boom called her Laura after a plasma ball had been kicked back in mid-air before it could go off. There was a sharp metal-on-metal sliding noise as she retracted her claws and jumped off the thief. "Merci."

The door banged open, throwing a shadow down on the young man. Wolverine's claws were back as well, but his mood was still lethal. "Gambit." The way he said it made it sound like a plague.

"It's ok, Logan. I sense no signs of malice from him." Xavier rolled down the hall. "Mr. Lebue, guests need to be prearranged for obvious reasons, even if they are well known to us, and rarely stay over night. And only faculty and students are allowed in the dormitory wings at this time of night."

Remy dusted himself off, standing. "I'm sorry, Sir." Logan and Charles both reacted to that. It was doubtful that this young man had ever called someone 'sir'. "Ah couldn' help mah self, I had to see mi cheri. An' you, Professor."

"Really?" Charles studied the tall, lithe young man. It might have been better if he'd been able to approach this one years ago, but he'd never be able to forget what he'd seen in the mind of Apocalypse. Gambit standing with the X-men, dying an X-man. "Very well. Logan, would you escort our guest to my study? I'll join you in a few moments."

"Cheri, go back to bed. Remy _wants_ to talk to you with all his heart, but Ah _must_ talk to da Professor. Ah fear a soul 's at stake."

Rogue glowered as he blew her a kiss from the hallway, then she slammed the door muttering. She knew slamming doors was frowned on, but no one said anything to her.

About an hour later, Laura rose from her bed. Kitty had gone back to sleep almost immediately. Rogue had taken longer, but her tossing and turning had slowed, as had her breathing. She silently moved past Ms Monroe's room. Laura leaned on the crashbar slowly, opening the door into the girl's wing, then eased it shut before slipping off towards the only room with lights still on..

Logan lounged in a chair he'd moved it so that there was nothing between him and the door to the Professor's study. "Hey, you should be in bed."

"I was, no one said I had to stay in bed."

Logan scowled. "It was implied. This isn't something you need to worry about."

She sat next to him, leaning her back against his chair. "This is the Remy that Rogue talks to in her sleep, I'm already worried about him." She was using her 'don't try to talk me out of this, you can't change my mind' voice. Logan knew that tone, he had it himself. "If he tries to kidnap her again, I will make it my business."

"Fine." He crossed his arms, looking down at the top of her head. "I don't think he's going to try that, though. This is bigger than Rogue. You can't tell her anything you might hear or see without asking the Professor first."

"Sensitive activities, with code word access. I know how that works."

Logan felt a sinking feeling that he's recently become familiar with. He wished Laura didn't speak like that, didn't think like that. Bad enough some of the others did. There were times where he wasn't sure if they were doing the right thing for the kids. But the kids were doing the right thing, so maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. He glanced down again, noticing that his fingers were stroking her hair gently. "I know you do. I'm sorry I forgot who I'm talking to."

"It's ok, you get forgetful when you are old." She smiled up at him teasingly.

They sat like that for a while, waiting, not listening. As it came closer to dawn, Logan stiffened, then Laura felt  the warmth of Professor Xavier's mind pressing softly on hers. _Young lady, since you aren't asleep, could you go wake up Rogue. Mr Lebue will be leaving shortly, she will want to see him off I think._

Laura bounced to her feet to carry out the errand. About half way to her room, she froze. 'Mr Lebue', not 'our guest', not 'Remy'. That meant that the Professor already considered Remy to be a member of the faculty. She blinked.

_-nt_

"Rogue, Ah'll be back. By the New Year, Ah promise."

"Where are yah going?"

"Ah told the Professor Ah'd find something for him. Ah can do it, not many can."

"Is he asking yah to steal something?" Rogue felt scandalized.

"Non, cheri. I need to give someone something back to someone. Someone who needs to find his way again. Ah told ya' true, Ah'm going to save a good man from hisself."

"Who? Why you?"

"Ah can' tell ya. An' don't go hating the Professor- he isn't making me do t'is. He's already said Ah'm welcome to come to da Institute, dat I have a place here. But Remy has to prove to Remy that Remy is ready to be one of ya'll."

"Ah'll go with you."

"No, cheri. You showed me this path. Now I must show someone." He hugged her, his chin stroking her cheek through the collar of his long coat. "Have faith in Remy."

"The New Year?"

"Oui."

"Ah'll hold ya to that, Cajun. January second, Ah'm coming for yah if you aren't here."

"I 'spect you might, even if you have to march on de gates of hell themselves. Until then, promise me somethin'. No tears. I'm just a thief, Rogue, and a liar. I'm not worth the tears. When I'm back, Ah'll be worth your tears"

"Ah'll try." She burried his face against his chest, while his fingers stroked her spine, his chin on the top of her head, protected by that foolish looking partial mask he wore.

Rogue could feel them watching. All of them. No one knew why he was leaving, other than The Professor. She let him lift her chin. "Remy..."

"No tears, mon cheri. I want to remember the Rogue who wanted throw me off the train." She laughed. "I must go." He caught her hand in both of his. Bowing his head to kiss the back of her knuckles, he then turned and sprinted for the gate. He jumped, taking the top rail in his hands and flipping over it, before waving good bye.

She felt the pressure in her mind. _Rogue, it was his idea._

_Ah don't want to hear it, Professor. Ah really don't want to talk to you right now!_

Silently, she stalked back inside. Logan was leaning against the door, blocking her. "He thinks he has to do this. I had to prove it to myself that I should be here. He feels the same way. He isn't going to die- he's going to prove he's one of us." He opened the door, stepping aside for her.

Rogue retreated to a quiet place in the under levels. Dark and alone and unseen by all. She wasn't going to cry. She was Rogue, she was an X-man. She couldn't cry.

_-nt_

Storm stepped back in from the balcony she'd been on. She looked at The Professor, seated at his desk. He'd taken down an old photo album, and was looking at one picture in particular.

"Do you think he can do it?"

"If anyone can find our prodigal, Gambit is the probably the best for the job." Long, strong fingers stroked the photo through the protective plastic. It had faded and yellowed with time. "I've failed."

"It was what he wanted."

"Was it?" Xavier closed the album. "You, Hank and Logan know, and I will tell Jean and Scott. But unless Rogue threatens to leave, I don't want her to know. She won't be happy with this, no matter what."

 **-Author's notes:  
** What was Remy looking for? Hmm... What, or whom?

I know my use of Rogue and Remy's accents suck a bit. I try, at least. If anyone can coach me on the accents of the most back woods (back swamp?) Lousiana Cajun or a deep Mississipi accent, I'd thank them. 

 

This cross ties with the unfinished and probably never will be story of Deluge and Rapture, which among other things shows why Remy wasn't with one of the teams on Apocolypse Day, what he did during Katrina, and what exactly his secret quest was. But the conclusion of that quest is New Years New Beginnings, which is also part of this collection (or will be within the week).  
  
In my writting, I often have a lot of music for characters and their relations, and that often shows my age. For Rogue and Remy, Santana's Into the Night.


	6. Never been pretty

"Kitty, why do you do that?" The engineered girl's nose wrinkled at the smell. "I do not... don't see the value."

If Katherine Pryde's ears could actually perk up, they would have to that question. Laura, combat utilities and a tshirt and no makeup, kick ass and skip names Laura, had just asked about nail polish. She looked up eagerly from the toes she was painting a dark blue. "Well, because it makes the nails pretty and it protects them a little."

Laura stretched out her arm as she'd seen her friends do, fingers spread, examining her nails. They were clean and short, neatly trimmed. The fingers were strong, thick for a girl, almost the hands of a boy, and there were callouses from her workouts. "What is wrong with my nails?"

"Nothing, but they could be better." The grin spreading on Shadowcat's face was approaching Cheshire proportions. "They are tomboy hands, but that doesn't mean they can't be pretty does it? Even Rogue does her nails- it is a girly thing."

Laura thought about it. Most girls talked about trying to be pretty; she was the rare one who didn't care either way. She kept her hair and skin clean, but there wasn't a need for more, was there? But she had noticed that to some degree, the pretty girls were better received unless they reached some nebulous point of being too pretty. She also knew she was considered pretty by many of the young males of the Institute's population, but she'd observed that baseline definitions of attractiveness had a lot to do with athleticism, intelligence and other traits adapted to survive. That itself was logical- she was was _supposed_ to be an Olympic-class athlete and a genius, two traits common among the students. She knew that she was considered dangerous, both by her self and by Logan's protectiveness, which would appeal to many. But there were the girls that the boys described as 'hot', which seemed to be a positive thing;they wore makeup, perfume and impractical clothing. She shrugged. "It can't hurt to try."

"That's the spirit!" Kitty reached under her bed, pulling out a small plastic container full of small bottles, a jumble of colors. "Hmm... probably a darker color for you? Or do you want them to jump out?"

"Whatever you think is best?"

"I've got just the color- it is too dark for me, I think I got it for Rogue but she didn't like it." She held the bottle against her friend's hand. "What do you think."

Laura looked at it. It did look good with her skin tone and it was a good color, she wore it already. She nodded.

_-nt_

"Laura, are you well?" Storm was studying the young woman. "Did you hurt your hands?"

"No, Ms Monroe." She looked down at her own hands. Contrary to what she'd expected, the dark green enamel hadn't chipped off during the training exercise. Kitty was right, the clear coat would protect it. "Why?"

"It's nothing. Must just have been the light- something looked odd."

"I would have felt an injury." Her claws shnicked out, her healing factor closing the wounds and sealing the cut capillaries almost before it happened. They were also coated in the glossy finish- she'd finished the bottle doing all her nails. Kitty had wanted to do what she called a "french tip", but Laura hadn't been sure she'd want white. She looked them over carefully. "No functional damage. I did chip the polish on this one, though."

"You polished your nails? Including your claws?" Storm wasn't quite sure how, but she knew that to some degree, Kitty was responsible for this.

"And my toenails. I'm not sure I see where the aesthetic value comes into play socially, but it is pretty."

A white eyebrow twitched up, just a little. "So I see."

"Hey Laura, thanks for the save out there." Alex Summers, Havok, waved appreciatively as he walked past.

Laura smiled back- he was a good warrior, possibly even as good as his older brother. He'd been taking out two simulants simultaneously when she spotted a third trying to get into hand to hand range from behind. Interception had only taken two seconds from where she was. But he was too careful with his own fire- he passed up targets if his shots would go within two meters of her. "Your covering fire was welcome as well. Don't worry about hitting me so much- I'm not as worried about close misses as some people are. One meter is safe enough- later we can tighten that up if we have comms so you can warn me. With practice, a quarter meter may be safe."

Storm smiled. She wasn't going to tell Logan about this yet. The nail polish would blow his mind enough.

**-Author's Notes:**

It wasn't in HYDRA's interests to introduce a weapon to this kind of thing, at least not yet. After more experience, she'd need to learn things like make up for long term operations, just to blend in, but not yet. So being "girly" is going to be alien to her. Weapons don't have to think in "cute".

And I think she and Havok would make an highly capable operational element. And he'll help her mellow out and relax- for the batch of students after the X-Men and the New Mutants, I see this version of Alex (unlike the comic one) being the good cheer guy, kind of like Kurt is with the X-Men. Every good team has one. But I don't see Laura ever being able to completely turn off the tactical component of her brain, particularly in a training session.

For some reason, I think Laura doing a hunter green-and-black alternate pattern to a french tip would be fitting. Especially if rather than gloss, it was matte. Then again, I also imagine her usually wearing black or dark grey BDU pants, and dark earth tone, grey or black tshirt most of the time. Dressing like an oil stained mud puddle. 


	7. Never been that scared

Since meals had mostly moved to the big dining room, and the kitchen had become just a kitchen, they had gotten a little less crowded at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. So you were less likely to find someone's elbow in you cereal. Didn't make it any less rambunctious, and if possible, even a little more informal than in the "old days" of only a few years ago.

"Kitty, I found this in the hall, I think it's yours." Amara draped a solitary, light blue ankle sock over her instructor's shoulder. "I can't see Rogue or Laura wearing it."

Rogue saw it first, her eyes wide. "Oh mah god..."

Once Katherine recognized it she choked, trying to shoot a mouthful of oatmeal through her nose.

_-nt_

"Laura, there is something I've got to tell you about since you'll be living with me and Rogue for the foreseeable future."

"You both snore."

"What? I do not! Rogue is snoring. We've got a signal." Kitty held up a sock. "I keep this in the bottom drawer of my dresser, in the corner. If you need to use it, drop it on the floor between the door and the jam, like it fell there accidentally. We'll see it, and come back in an hour."

"Alright." Laura studied the sock. It was just nylon-cotton blend sock. "Why would I have to use it?"

"Well, like, you know." Kitty dropped her voice a little. "If you've got a boy in here with you."

"Very well. And if I see it, it means you've got a boy in here, and I should stay away for an hour?"

"Yep. Thanks."

_-nt_

Rogue was on her feet as soon as her jaw was off the table. "Oh mah god, who's missin'?" Laura still overreacted some times. For a naive, teenage weapon, the kinds of things that boys thought of might not be taken the right way, particularly after some of the things she experienced while under HYDRA's control. She'd seen things in her friend's memories that she hadn't told Logan. 

Kitty was busy trying to swallow the oatmeal and neither inhale it nor have it go into her sinuses. Logan's daughter was only slightly less likely to have a boy with her in the room than Rogue was. And first thing in the morning to, while the others were eating breakfast. This wasn't happening.

Logan frowned. He knew logically he had been a kid, and he'd spent years around them, but sometimes they confused him. He glanced at both the young women's reactions. "It's a sock."

"Oh my stars..." Of the senior instructors, only Hank McCoy had spent time in college dorm. He knew what this meant. And if Kitty and Rogue were here, there WAS someone missing. He glanced at Wolverine. This wasn't going to end well. "Is that...?"

"Jamie. He's who's missin!"

Thats when Logan got it. He went white with horror, then red, and finally white again. He didn't say a thing as he stood up, his claws unsheathing as he stalked towards the stairs. All the students moved away, parting before him like a sea of mutants and he the One True Prophet of All Doom. He didn't notice Rogue and Kitty following him as he took the stairs three at a time, with Ororo, Jean and Scott not far behind.

Hank was going in the other direction, towards the infirmary.

_-nt_

The door latch was split in several parts under the monocrystaline edge of Wolverine's claws, before the door slammed open. "JAMES MADROX! GET YOUR DAMN HANDS OFF MY DAUGHTER!"

The bear-like roar was loud enough to be heard through the mansion, but the use of the D-word shocked most people into silence. It wasn't one he was comfortable using in public, and Laura never spoke of Wolverine as her father, just as Logan.

Reacting instantly, Laura rolled off the bed, scattering text books and calculators, a large sketch pad fluttering to the ground between the two warriors like a wounded swan.  Her voice was raised, the scream of a catamount. "Logan! What is your problem?"

He held up the sock, dangling from a claw. "This! This means you have a boy in here!"

"SO? Jamie asked me to help him on his electronics project before we went to school." While he had been at the Institute longer, since middle school, they were in the same grade at Bayville High. She waved her claws in the direction of the young man behind her, who's eyes crossed as he tracked the blades flashing before his eyes. So did a little bit of his life.

Jamie swallowed nervously. "I can go if you two need to..."

"Shut up Jamie, let me handle this." Laura's lips were pulled back in a silent snarl, matching Logan's. She was dressed as she normally was, cargo pants and a black tshirt. "Logan, what did you think we were doing in here?"

"What do you think I was thinking? You put the sock on the door so they'd leave you alone with Jamie?"

"Kitty asked me to put that there if I had a boy in the room, so she and Rogue would leave us alone, so we could study." She took the glare up a notch. "Some people respect that here. This is a school."

He was starting to take it in. "I thought you two were in here, ss... ss.." He growled- it wasn't like he was a virgin himself, but he was choking on the word. "I thought you were in here sleeping together!." He spat it out.

Jamie's eyes widened as felt his spine straighten up. The Wolverine, the high master of ass kicking and generally manliness at the Institute, was afraid of him being alone with his daughter. Utterly terrifying, and an amazing ego boost. It meant he was a badass, a stud. It was like being the most wanted "mutant menace" on Kelly's hate list. If he got out of this alive, he'd be walking around with his own sound track, he'd be that cool. Laura was pretty good looking even for the girls at the Institute, and she was dangerous as hell.

"Why would it matter if we were sleeping? And he has a perfectly good bed of his own."

The innocence behind the angry tone hit Logan like a bucket of ice water. "But.." He waggled the sock. "I thought you were having s... sex with him."

"What? With Jamie?" She snorted dismissively. "No. Even if I was, why would I be so stupid as to leave a sign out?"

No greater wound could be inflicted on young Multiple with the full dozen blades bared in the room. With that snort from Laura, his male ego wilted, turned to dust and blew away. His shoulders slumped. Cool no more. Well, maybe a little- he was still studly enough to scare the Wolverine.

"Jamie. Go. Eat breakfast." Wolverine twitched his claws towards the door. His eyebrow twitched nervously. He was still looking at his gene-daughter as the ashen young man scuttled from the room. "Laura, it's time for The Talk."

"Uh, yeah." Rogue paled. "See ya'll later." She felt Kitty take a handful of her shirt, pulling back gently. Scott and Jean were already escorting Jamie towards the stairs.

"Oh no! Front and center you two, you get this lecture to."

_-nt_

Logan sat by the fountain, watching the water ripple. Everyone was giving him his distance- false alarm, but scary enough. He sighed as the Professor approach. "I know, Chuck, I know. I shouldn't have lost my cool."

"No, you shouldn't have." Charles Xavier set the brakes on his wheelchair.

"And I'll fix the door before lunch."

"I know you will." The Professor watched his friend closely. "You over reacted, but no worse than many fathers, and you showed commendable restraint."

"I'll apologize to Jamie when they get back from school." Logan wasn't in the mood to be praised. He'd blown it. 

"Would you have actually killed Jamie if he and Laura were... involved?"

"Probably not. Might have tossed him out the window." He looked sideways at his old friend. "If you thought I was going to, you'd have done something, wouldn't you."

"Yes." Charles Xavier nodded.

"The five year old girl thing?"

"No- a mime."

"Rather get the braids and dress." He chuckled softly. "I really am a over protective daddy, aren't I."

"You never knew it had it in you, did you. If you'd asked, I'd have told you that they were studying." Charles Xavier's lips quirked up slightly. "Oh, and I don't think Alex has blinked yet."

Logan was silent at that news, watching the water. "Alex? Why should I have scared him more than-" He rubbed his throbbing temples tiredly. "Great. Just great."

 **-Author's notes:  
** I think Jamie should at least get the bragging rights for making Wolverine show his true colors. And this isn't an parody, honestly. I've known guys who are career military (and I don't mean fobbits) who either turn into whimpering, gibbering piles of goo at the idea of their teenage daughter with a boy behind a closed bedroom door, or want to make said eager young space cadet disappear from the face of the earth. And Uncle Raven might just be willing to help them with that project. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this timeline takes a small break in this chapter. Sorta. Figure this is early November, 2005. The next three stories in this arc was originally presented individually as a holiday trilogy: Home to Meet the Family (Kurt goes with Kitty for Thanksgiving), Staying Home this Holiday (Christmas at the Institute) and finally New Years New Beginnings. I'll probably post these three this week (the first week of November, 2016), then it will be on to the next chapter of this work.


End file.
